VALOUR
by Lalagurl010301
Summary: "You'll be nothing more than a ghost of his forgotten past" Cersei sneered at the woman she often degraded, but this time, unlike the other times, Amara smiled. "And you'll be nothing more than his sister. Atleast not on this land, not while you're on that damned throne" (Jaime/Oc) [REWRITING]
1. EXTENDED SUMMARY

**SYNOPSIS**

Amara Jordayne was born to fulfill the prophecy that held the strings to her realm. She was a seer, who was meant to guide the promised prince. Once she'd lived up to her purpose, she was meant to depart the land in peace. The gods had planned it for her. Amara was never meant to live an ordinary life, she was never meant to fall in love.

 _Yet she did._

Jaime Lannister was destined to be the richest lord of his land, he was destined to have an ordinary life. The gods had planned it for the young lion. His rise and his fall, all was decided for he was just another noble boy. He was meant to follow his sister to the ends of the world and he was meant to love her. Only her.

 _Yet he didn't._

When they met, long before the war, they soon struck a friendship as they found comfort in each other's loneliness, for Jaime was a young boy away from home and Amara, a girl who was alone even when she was greatly loved.

Their friendship suffered great misfortunes as their families hated each other. Hence, time after time they were separated, either by their ambitious fathers or by the fires of the rebellion

Just as distance makes heart grow fonder, their sweet friendship soon turned to love, which they denied again and again.

When they did realise, it was already too late. Winter knocked on their doors and the stranger awaited Amara's soul, once she'd finished her divine work. While Jaime began questioning his morals and tried to break away from his sister. His lover and his pillar.

 _Jaime and Amara were never meant to be in love._

But they were and would always be, for they had grown in the great rebellion. The knight and his maiden rebelled against destiny. They had love. They had strength. They had -

 _Valour_


	2. PROLOGUE

_273 AL,_ KINGSLANDING

 **FELICIA** **TYRELL** was not a woman to be easily purturbed by a simple bone of contention. She'd always had greater things to worry about, but her heated conversation with the crown prince had left her mind in a turmoil. So she ran, she ran away from the young prince who went on calling after her but the woman would not listen.

Felicia was anxious and enraged, beads of sweat tickled down her temple as she picked up pace. She could hardly fathom how the mighty Rhaegar Targaryen could ask her to be a pawn in his selfish game. Her abilities were sacred and she'd intended to keep it that way.

When Felicia reached her old handmaiden's deserted chambers, in the tallest tower of the Red Keep, she found herself ravaging through the sheets until her palms felt a cold metal underneath them. She'd known her lord husband to be a secretive man but little did she expect him to tuck his ancestral dagger underneath a flea infested sheet.

Felicia twirled the dagger in her hand mesmerized in it's beauty and almost unsure of her forthcomings. Her mind drifted to the dialogue she'd shared with the prince only a few moments ago. She remembered how his violet orbs shone with hope when he proposed her to be his seer.

 _His seer._

Rhaegar Targaryen was almost too sure that he was the prince who was promised, but the legend also called for a prophetess with the mark who'd lead him to glory. Felicia scoffed at the overconfidence of the prince who thought that she would be the one to guide him, but the prince failed to realise the misery that his chosen guide would have to withstand.

Felicia knew that there were hundreds of women on Westeros and Essos who were endorsers of mysticism but there could only be one chosen prophet.

She knew that it wasn't her for the chosen one is not supposed to lead a content life, and she was indeed content. She'd married the love of her life and had two beautiful children, but Rhaegar had failed to understand this. He wanted to make her hard earned life into a living hell just for his personal satisfaction.

Even if she agreed to his terms, she knew her ordinary life would be in ruins. She'd loose sleep, her health would worsen and she'd finally fade from existence. It was the fate of the chosen one, it was written down in the prophecy itself, but the prince couldn't care less.

He was preparing himself to become a fragment of his greatest desires.

Felicia believed that she'd rather die than serve that Targaryen against her wishes. Least, she would be in peace. As much as it hurt her to leave her husband and her children, she deemed death to be her only option. So without another thought, the woman gripped onto her dagger with trembling hands, as tears formed in her eyes and raised it in the air.

She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting to swing the dagger into her gut, but before she could carry out her actions, a small voice called out to her.

"Mother"

Felicia turned to see her four year old daughter standing by the door, shivering in her underclothes while she suckled on her thumb. Felicia quickly hid the dagger behind her back.

"What are you doing so late, Amara? I thought Marcel had put you to sleep" Felicia said, wiping her tears for her daughter.

Amara giggled in response

"He fell asleep himself, he snores so loudly and sounds just like a bull" Felicia smiled at Amara who was laughing on her own, but soon the little girl stopped. Her expressions were laced with confusion as her eyes bore into Felicia's.

"What is wrong, mother?" She asked, noticing the pain in her eyes.

The woman was speechless, she couldn't explain her child, the crisis that had engulfed her life from the past few days. She was fearful that Amara wouldn't understand the need for her to die and would try to revoke her attempts.

"Come here" she said softly, gesturing to her lap. Amara entered the room which was in a mess, sheets were sprawled on the floors, mosses made their way on the walls and among all that filth sat her mother with a few candles lit behind, her legs were crossed and she had an unreadable expression on her face.

Felicia pulled her daughter on her lap and cradled her like she was a babe born mere moments ago.

"You have been sleeping less for the past few days 'mara. What is the matter? Are you playing late in the night again?" Felicia asked, brushing the srands of hair off her forehead. Amara's lips curved into a small smile as her eyes became heavy lidded. Her mother's warm touch certainly did wonders, she felt safe in her arms.

"Dreams, I have these nightmares mother" she whispered.

Felicia froze. Her eyes widened in fear, fear for the worst. She slowly looked down at her child who was almost drifting off to sleep.

"I see dragons mother, big bad dragons. They were burning us all" she whispered while yawning.

Felicia stopped rocking the young girl who was now awoken my the sudden lack of motion. Without another word, Felicia grabbed Amara's wrist and bought it closer for inspection.

The small insignificant birthmark that she had on her wrist had now become prominent. Felicia knew that her daughter was born with the scar but she'd failed to interpret it's purpose until now. If her assumptions were true then her sweet daughter would be miserable all her life and the woman did not have the heart to let her face such adversities.

If Amara was a seer then she would be in pain.

Felicia's mind was racing as her chest heaved making the little girl tense. Amara was scared, she had never seen her mother so distressed but she didn't know what was running through the woman's mind.

Felicia's attention arrived at the dagger. She was soon struck with an idea. She made Amara sit up on and wrapped her in a shawl.

"Mother-"

"You were cold weren't you, my sweet pea?" She said quickly and Amara nodded in response.

Felicia reached for the candles that burnt behind her on the small table. She placed the burning candle on the hem of her dress as she pulled her daughter closer to her chest, singing soft lullabies in her ear. It didn't take long for the young girl to fall asleep, with a warm blanket and her mother's sweet voice she felt comfortable.

When the time seemed ripe, Felicia Tyrell flicked the burning candle on her white satin dress and set it ablaze.

It was a rash decision, true, but it was for the best. She and Amara would now be safe and happy in the heavens. No man could now exploit their abilities.

She laughed, almost maniacal it did sound but Felicia Tyrell was happy as the flames engulfed her body slowly and steadily while her daughter was practically knocked unconscious due to the smoke.

Footsteps were heard running towards them as the fire spread throughout the room and there stood Rhaegar Targaryen, petrified and defeated. A mere woman had ruined his plans, the thought of it was enough to make the Tyrell roar in laughter.

"The dragons will never have us. We will be happy again my sweet pea" she screamed both in pain and joy as her flesh slowly melted away by the warm fires.

To Rhaegar the scene was shocking. Felicia looked like a madwoman, her eyes were like the blazing suns. The air smelt of rotting flesh, he had almost decided to walk into the flames and pull out the foolish woman while knocking some sense into her, but when he saw a bundled body held close to the woman's chest, he couldn't help himself.

The prince tried to run into the flames but was stopped by Gerold Hightower who held the young Targaryen in place.

"A child is in there Gerold, I need to save them" Rhaegar pleaded, but the blonde knight refused to understand.

"The flames have spread throughout the room my prince, you cannot go in there. I have arranged for water, servants are bringing them" he said. Rhaegar sighed.

Felicia's laughter soon died out and it was the proof of her departure from the realm. The flames were so wild that even hours of watering had failed to tame it.

Berrin Jordayne soon arrived at the scene, as he pushed the servants away. His dark hair was drenched in sweat and his cheeks were stained with tears. When he reached the door to find his prince and closest friend standing with his arms folded and head bent down, Berrin knew that there were no survivors.

Gerold Hightower and Arthur Dayne stood by him, waiting for the last flames to cool down. Berrin fell on his knees, letting out a sharp cry that made the prince and his Kingsguard run to comfort him.

Rhaegar held on to his dear friend as he cried on his shoulders. He looked up to see Marcel Jordayne standing by them, on the verge of bursting into tears.

"Be strong Berrin, hold yourself together. Today was an unfortunate accident, do not cry" Rhaegar said, trying to console him.

"Strong? How can I be strong when my wife and daughter have burnt alive?!" He screamed. Rhaegar was startled at his outburst but it was natural for the man to be angry, he loved his family too much.

"You do realise that it was your dear wife that burnt your daughter alive?" Gerold commented angrily.

"Gerold-"

"Do pardon me, my prince but I speak the truth. You saw how she laughed, almost like a mad woman" Before the Lord Commander could speak any further, Berrin had already tackled him down to the ground, his eyes were red with anger and pain. He was in no mood to hear unsupportive remarks from him. Arthur and Rhaegar tried to pull them away but Berrin's rage had gotten better of him.

"The lass is breatin' mi'lord" a lanky servant said, while the others retrieved the Amara Jordayne's body. Berrin stopped and rushed to his daughter who was laid on the stony floor. She was covered in thick soot and her shoulders held serious burns.

"My 'mara" he said, wiping the blood stains off her face. By god's grace her face was saved but her back had burnt. She looked strangely peaceful.

"We must take her to Pycelle" Arthur suggested, the prince nodded in agreement and went on to pick up the little girl despite his lord commander instructing otherwise.

"Get cleaned up, Berrin" The prince said.

"It's not that easy, my wife-"

"You still have a son and if the gods permit, a healthy daughter as well. Do it for them, as your Prince I command you to"

The Dornishman huffed under his breath and walked away while Rhaegar carried the burnt girl towards the maester's chambers. She was still warm from the fire, he was careful not to infect her wounds.

He had so many questions. Rhaegar understood why Felicia would want to kill herself, but her daughter?

It was strange for a mother to inflict such pain on her own blood, so there had to be a greater reason. He felt guilt wash over him whenever he laid eyes on the half burnt girl in his arms. It was all his fault, but confronting Felicia was necessary, he just didn't expect his necessity to turn into situations of life and death.

His eyes felt on the girl's wrist where her scar that she bore since her birth had become bigger under the blood stains, almost like a mark. It was shaped like a snake and under the crimson blood it did look like a viper had wrapped itself around her wrist.

When realisation hit him, Rhaegar almost stumbled down with the girl, but he soon composed himself.

 _The chosen one was supposed to be marked._

Could it have been the reason why Felicia would want to kill her daughter?

Rhaegar felt it had to be the reason. She was a seer like her mother but she was no ordinary seer, she was the chosen one.

He reached the maester's quarters and placed her under Pycelle's care while he waited outside.

Rhaegar realised that he had confronted the wrong woman, the key to his destiny was in his arms, mere moments ago and so the prince prayed to the gods that Amara Jordayne would survive the night, for she was the key. The young girl had survived the monstrous fires, there had to be a reason for it and Rhaegar believed that it was because of her importance in a far greater plan. She was the one he was looking for.

Amara would guide him to fulfill the prophecy of ice and fire, she would guide the prince who was promised.

 _She would be his prophetess._


	3. CHAPTER ONE

**_PART ONE_**

 ** _ROBERT'S REBELLION_**

 **CHAPTER** **ONE**

 _'DID YOU SEE THE GOLDEN KNIGHT? '_

Late _279 AL,_

HARRENHAL

 **THEY HAD SAID IT WAS** the year of false spring. Jaime hadn't really bothered, but that morning when the young Lannister sat by his window he felt the strange calling of the wind, that hit his bare chest. It seemed almost like winter, yet it wasn't. The sky had been cloudy with a few specks of sunlight escaping the gloomy barriers. It felt haunting. Jaime was never a thoughtful boy, his days included him honing his skills with the blade, so it was evident that the boy did rarely had time my himself, but the sky provoked his thoughts deeply that morning and the young knight regarded it to be the wine he'd gulped down last night.

Everything had happened so fast. From being knighted at a tender age of fifteen to consenting for the Kingsguard an year later, was indeed an implausible deed for any boy of his age to achieve. It was not like he wasn't proud, but he knew that his father was not, but he didn't care ( or least he thought he didn't ) he'd done it all for love, for Cersei.

He turned to his bed to see her beautiful sister wrapped in sheets. He smiled at the sight of her sleeping form. Cersei stirred, as her eyes fluttered opened to look at her twin smiling down at her. Memories from the previous night came flooding in. The lingering feeling of Cersei's touch was enough to evoke shivers down Jaime's spine. He'd cherish every moment of their time together, how she screamed his name when he was deep within her, how her nails dug into his back and how her face twisted in pleasure as she came undone under him.

Jaime remembered it all, and how the boy loved his sister, it was almost maddening. Cersei smirked at her dreamy eyed lover and pulled him back into the bed. She threw him on his back and straddled him. Jaime gasped while Cersei lowered herself to capture his lips.

"Did you have a word with father?" She asked ending their kiss abruptly much to Jaime's annoyance.

"About what?" He asked playfully as a sly smile made it's way to his face. Cersei frowned and struck his shoulders with her knuckles. Jaime pretended to be in agony before bursting into fits of laughter while Cersei sat unfazed at her brother's childishness during dire situations.

"It's just a consent Cersei, it's not like the King will knight me instantly! It takes time, all good things take time" he said, raising himself to meet her lips, only to be pushed back to his previous position. Cersei was in no mood for folly.

"What did father say?" She asked, wrapping stands of hair around her finger.

"Nothing at all, but he was enraged. I could see it in his eyes" Jaime shrugged

"Jaime-" She tried to warn him.

"Don't" the lion Lannister said, as he hoisted himself to sit up straight with the girl, still on his lap. Jaime's eyes spoke of various conflicts and Cersei wanted to know them. She wished he'd share his inner thoughts with her, she wished he'd make himself vulnerable to her, but her brother was as stubborn as her, so he wouldn't and it bothered her.

His hands were placed in the either sides of his sister's nude waist, he pulled her closer to him, making her wrap her slender arms around his neck. Their foreheads touched and Jaime whispered.

"Know this, I do not care what father says. I am just looking out for us and this is the only way we can be together, you and I, and never in a thousand years will I let father ruin it"

Jaime was sincere. It was the truth. The Kingsguard would be the only way and he hoped that his sister would understand but Cersei was twisted in her own way and he knew it well, but he wouldn't dwell on it. He believed that she had her own time to wrap her mind around a issue but he was sure that she'd eventually understand. She loved him dearly, after all.

Just as Jaime had predicted, Cersei had a strange expression on her face, so without another word she crashed her lips onto his and threw him on the bed once again. The boy was confused at the sudden show of affection. Only Cersei knew how she felt and he'd always been slow to figure her out.

His sister was a mystery and the boy craved mysteries more than anything.

The twins soon found themselves entangled on the bed, breathing heavily as sweat oozed from their skin. It didn't take Cersei long to drag herself out of the bed and slip into her clothes, quietly tiptoeing to her room. Jaime conversely, lay on the bed, stunned that his sister didn't even confer with him after his rather emotional statement. He sighed, she was truely a strange girl.

Jaime sat up by the edge of the bed and pulled up his trousers and laced his tunic, while putting on a blood red jacket that held the sigil of his house. The preparations for the tourney were to being that morning followed by an opening feast at night which would be followed by the actual tourney the next day.

Jaime grabbed his sword from the bedside table and walked out of his room, swinging his blade while whistling in his own mind. He was atingle for the tourney, it was the only way he would be able to showcase his abilities to a larger audience. He would make his house proud.

"Jaime" a stern voice stopped the young lion on his tracks. The boy slowly turned his head to see that his father, standing at the end of the isle, as a shadow loomed over his head, making his sinister eyes gleam in the dark. The young Lannister swallowed hard as he took steps towards his father. Tywin Lannister motioned his son to follow him into the study provided to him.

When the boy reached his father's chambers, he was greeted by a shocking sight.

Cersei stood by the window, her eyes red with hot tears of rage as her hands were balled into fists. Jaime's mouth hung loose, and before he could ask Tywin the nature of their conversation, he'd already shut the door hard enough to make Jaime shudder in his position and loose all the confidence he had mustered.

"The King has decided to name you his Kingsguard, tonight at the feast" Tywin said monotonously while walking to his desk that sat by a large window. Jaime's eyes widened as a smile formed on his face.

"Do you know what it means to take the white?" Tywin asked, taking his seat.

"Of course I do. I will have to serve the king, protect him"

Jaime scoffed.

"Wrong" He said, his eyes turning cold.

"It means that you will not inherit any lands, castles, gold or armies. It means that you shall never take a wife and father children. It means that you will no longer be the heir to Casterly Rock" Tywin added. His voice was barely raised but it felt like ten stabs through Jaime's inflated ego. The boy took a deep breath and tried explaining his father.

"Do you think I did not know any of this? I knew about the challenges that came with my decision. I do not want Casterly Rock, Tyrion can have it. He would be a much more capable lord than I'd be" Jaime said, as anger bubbled within him. He just wanted his father to be proud of him, but there he was blabbering about the same old things.

"Tyrion is a disgrace. I'd rather have a bastard ruling as the warden instead" Tywin said, rummaging through the papers on his desk. He pulled out, what seemed like a decree but instead meant something completely different.

"I am resigning from my post as the Hand of the king. Since there are no capable hands at Casterly Rock, I will be returning home, _with_ Cersei to re-establish our strong hold in the Westerlands. Lord Jordayne will take my place as the Hand"

 _'With Cersei'_

Those two words shattered Jaime's world. Everything he had planned, was now biting dust. He did not know what to do, he couldn't back away. It was a sacred vow, but he couldn't leave his sister either. As the young boy met his sister's eyes he saw the disgust in them, she hated him but more so, Jaime hated himself.

 **oooo**

Amara hated tourneys but more than that, she hated Harrenhal. It was the first time she'd been North and the girl could already feel her spirits becoming low. The northern winds hadn't been kind to her, the girl couldn't stop sneezing. Amara had decided that she wouldn't let her sore throat agonize her for she knew if the word of her slightest discomfort reached the crown prince, she'd be sent back to Kingslanding, that would be awefully tragic.

These celebrations were rare occurrences and even if she hated them, she was eager to attend. Amara wanted to meet new people, from different and diverse lands and this gathering would be her only chance.

So that morning before the opening ceremony of the Tourney, Amara along with Balerion the cat, went out adventuring through the tents of various warriors, despite Rhaegar's constant urge to keep her close by.

She was like an unstoppable force of nature, and who was he to tame her?

Balerion had been fussy that day. He'd refused to be with Rhaenys and ran around everywhere. So when Amara was exploring the tent, she soon lost track of the raven furred cat. Her drastic decision seemed like a mistake for she knew how upset this would make the young princess.

"Balerion!" She called out, but the feline creature of no where to be seen. Her search went on for what seemed like ages, until she finally sat down, folding her legs to her chest as she buried her face in them.

"Is this yours?" A voice called said, making Amara look up and to her surprise the voice belonged to a beautiful young maiden. Beside her was the damned cat, that had made her run all through Harrenhal.

"Yes!" She exclaimed, making the young girl laugh.

"Stupid cat" Amara pet him on the nose, earning a loud 'meow'.

"She is quite free spirited" the unknown girl commented.

"That she is. She takes it after us Dornish" Amara said, stroking the cat. "Thank you my lady, I donot know how I would've managed to find this cat all by myself" she sighed.

"Oh no. It is quite alright! I found the poor thing scurrying for food around our tent" Amara laughed. It was a typical behaviour of Balerion.

"I am Amara Jordayne" she said, extending her free hand. Just like her father had taught her. A gentleman's handshake, he called it.

"Lyanna Stark, pleasure to be of your acquaintance" she smirked and the two shook hands. Amara's eyes widened. A Stark. The girl was the daughter of the warden of the north. She was the first northerner Amara had ever met, this thrilled the girl.

"I have never known any one from the north!" She squeaked in joy. Lyanna let out a short laugh.

"I have never met a Dornish either. I believe we both have that in common" she winked. Lyanna Stark was a beautiful woman, not as beautiful as Ashara but she had her own beauty. Her's was a beauty so wild that it was almost addictive, her long brown tresses and bluish grey eyes made it hard for Amara to look away, and not appreciate her beauty.

"Do you want to come along? I'm going to see my brother spar" Amara asked, Lyanna looked hesitant as she turned to see her surroundings. When she perceived all to be well, she nodded with a smile. Amara dragged the Stark to the training areas.

"The north is so chilly" Amara sneezed, making Lyanna giggle.

"You'll get used to it, soon enough"

"Father says there are wolves in the north, tell me Lady Lyanna is it true? Are there ferocious wolves residing in the north?" She asked as great curiosity sparked in her eyes.

"Yes. Big wolves, we call them dire wolves but they are lovable. I have had to fortune of touching one, and it seemed kind enough" she said looking down at the girl, who was still holding on to the cat.

"Of course you'll love wolves! They are in the sigils of your house, but it is not the wolves that intrigue me. It is the Castle Black" she said with wide eyes of wonder. Lyanna's brows furrowed, the girl had been too young to think of places like Castle Black. It was not a topic of a child's wonder. The Stark wished to know more about her peculiar interest.

"Why may I ask? What makes you curious about that place?" Lyanna asked.

"Nothing" Amara said quietly, but Lyanna wasn't believing that reply.

"Lady Amara" she said, her voice filled with caution as she realised that the girl could run away any moment.

"Please don't tell Prince Rhaegar" the girl pleaded and Lyanna quickly nodded in affirmation.

"I have these dreams- these nightmares, where I see a huge castle, there's always this boy with dark curls and he keeps on saying that he's a ranger. So after a lot of reading I realised that rangers live in Castle Black and I wanted to know more" Amara explained as the young Stark girl continued to listen. The Jordayne knew that her dreams were strange, it was always the same boy with those beady eyes, now that she thought of it Lyanna too had similar eyes. Maybe the boy in her dreams was a Stark afterall.

"Don't let these petty nightmares scare you, Lady Amara. We all make up things in our minds that, we ourselves are not quite sure about" Lyanna assured, patting the girl on her shoulders.

Amara didn't know what had come over her which made her open up to some she'd known only for a few moments. Maybe it was her nurturing demeanour or her understand nature. She had began liking Lyanna Stark and she hoped to become great friends with her.

When the pair had reached the training arena, Amara let go of Balerion and ran to see her brother fight another noble boy.

"MARCEL!" she cheered at the top of her voice, making Lyanna laugh. To her dismay the boy was nowhere as good as his counterpart. He was lazily dodging all the blows and his footing was extremely wrong. Lyanna cringed at the sight infront of her.

Amara's cheers soon died out as well, when she realised that her brother was yet to master the blade. So when Marcel gave the last blow, the young girl gasped. Her brother had countered an attack. She shouted in joy, yet again while Lyanna sighed in relief. It had been a close call.

"This is child's play" called out a young boy, making Lyanna and Amara look to his direction.

It was Jaime Lannister with a usual smirk plastered on his face, as he stood with folded hands. His Lannister features were brought out in the sunlight as he looked gallant and chivalrous with his armour and glazing sword, but Amara knew boys like him. Born with a golden spoon in their mouth, they were nothing but nuisance to the society.

The two girls watched as the golden knight walked into the dueling pit with long strides. He pushed out the noble boy and drew his sword to fight Marcel, who was already trembling with fear, but at the same time, trying his best not to break character.

Jaime turned to Amara and the young girl swore that his eyes were greener than the purest emerald she'd seen. He was handsome, indeed but he had a rotten soul, like all other rich noble men.

"Save your cheers little lady, who knows how long it will take for them to turn to wailings of your dear brother's loss" he chuckled.

"Speak for yourself, Lannister. It is a shame that your sister isn't here to do the same for you" She said. Jaime's lip twitched. The girl had struck a nerve especially since Cersei had left him that very morning, the young Lannister was now even so determined to make the Jordayne boy bite the dust.

"Go back to the tent Amara, I can fight my own battles without you chirping around me" Marcel commanded.

"Yes, listen to your brother, little lady. The sight of his defeat is far too collosal for your heart" Jaime snarled. Amara didn't move from her position. Her hands were balled into fists as she huffed in anger. She wanted to wack Jaime Lannister across his face.

Lyanna Stark understood the girl's discomfort, she had brothers as well. So, without another thought the Stark girl jumped into the duelling pit and made her way towards Marcel, to everyone's surprise.

"Give me the sword" she stated, but Marcel refused, shaking his head furiously.

"I said give. Me. The sword" Lyanna ordered, her gray eyes turning dark. This scared Marcel who quickly handed the sword and ran away from the arena, his face red with shame, that a woman was fighting on his behalf.

"I shall fight for his kin" Lyanna said, as she tore the hem of her dress and tied her hair into a messy knot. She picked up the sword and there began the great duel.

A Lannister and a Stark.

Tension was evident, it was a rivalry of two great houses which was well brought out with every clinck of swords. Jaime was hesitant to fight a woman at first, after all Lyanna was an year younger than him, but the girl of fifteen fought as good as any man, which made the Lannisters pick up his defenses. Lyanna aimed for his abdomen while Jaime shielded. It was a tense fight as both of them were masters of the craft.

Amara was jumping in joy when she saw Lyanna fight. Swords had never interested the girl but watching good duels was always a preferable pastime.

A hand was placed on the excited girl's shoulder, which made her look up, it was Rhaegar Targaryen who was watching the swordfight as well.

"Who's that girl, Amara?" He asked, as his eyes followed the young lady Stark, wielding the sword gracefully.

"That is Lady Lyanna Stark. She is my new friend and she is fighting on Marcel's behalf. Isn't she such a good fighter, my prince? " Amara giggled.

"Yes, that she is" Rhaegar said, still studying the girl.

The fight was long as both of the participants were now exhausted. Jaime's hair was now greasy with sweat as Lyanna constantly panted, her dress was torn and she looked like a mess.

Before they could continue any longer a booming voice made them stop on their respective positions.

"LYANNA!"

It was lord Rickard Stark with Robert Baratheon by his sides. They were entering the dueling pit. Lord Stark had a disapproving look on his face while Robert was clearly enjoying the view.

"Father I-" before the girl could finish she was dragged from the arena. Lord Stark apologised thoroughly to the prince, who was also trying to take Lyanna's side. Amara's face fell at sight the Stark girl being dragged away, she gave him a weak smile with Amara soon returned.

"It's my fault that she's in trouble" Amara said, fiddling with the laces of her tunic.

"The northners aren't as liberal as us, Amara. I'm sure Lady Lyanna knew that before she decided to take up Marcel's cause" Rhaegar assured the young girl. He had been looking for Amara through the morning, but when he did find her, he was distracted by her new found friend.

Rhaegar sighed.

"Ser Jaime. May I have a word" Jaime froze. He hoped that he was no more in trouble, with his father gone, there was no one to save his arse in the whole area and Lannisters weren't exactly everyone's favourite.

Amara clutched on to the Prince's trousers as Jaime came to them.

"My Prince" he said bowing down, still panting from the previous fight.

"You are to be welcomed into the Kingsguard, Ser Jaime. These things don't suit the white cloaks, these games are for squires and young boys. If you wish to partake in a fair fight, I suggest you wait for the tourney to commence, tomorrow" Rhaegar said. His voice was like sweet melody but held great authority at the same time which was intimidating for Jaime.

Amara was listening curtly while Rhaegar continued to give the young Lannister, lessons in chivalry.

All of a sudden, Amara's vision darkened and the girl fell flat on the ground with a loud thud.

There was a voice at the back of her head, a voice that chanted-

 _' the ice melts and the fire burns out, but it is their song that lives on '_

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Ages of characters as of 279AL:

1\. Amara Jordayne - 10

2\. Marcel Jordayne - 15

3\. Jaime Lannister - 16

4\. Lyanna Stark - 15

5\. Rhaegar Targaryen - 24

6\. Elia Martell - 22

7\. Berrin Jordayne - 35


	4. CHAPTER TWO

**CHAPTER 2**

 _' STAY AWAY FROM THE LONE LANNISTER '_

Late _279 AL,_

 _HARRENHAL_

 **WHEN AMARA WOKE UP, HER HEAD FELT HEAVY**. She was nauseous and dizzy, her vision was blurry, and all she could make out was that she was not in her tent but inside the castle.

She blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the light, and when the girl's vision was restored, she saw a mop of curls beside her. She smiled to herself as she recognised her father, who'd probably fallen asleep while waiting for her to wake up. Amara looked out of the window to realise that it was already evening. She had slept through the morning.

She shook her head, wiggled her toes and stretched her arms to retain her lost stamina.

The girl failed to understand the reason of her fainting. Her slumber had been filled with those strange dreams agin. It was just another nightmare. The same old boy, but that day her dream had been clearer. She had seen the boy. Yes, but this time she'd seen more. She'd seen him hugging another auburn haired boy as they exchanged smiles.

' _Farewell Snow'_

 _'And you Stark'_

Snow.

Amara marvelled at the uniqueness of the name. Why would someone name their child snow? She had a million of questions, yet Amara had no one to answer them.

These were the times when the girl wished that her mother was alive, as far as the girl remembered, her mother was known to deal with mysticism. She would have believed her nightmares, she would have believed them all.

Amara was shaken out of her daze by her yawning father. She giggled as Berrin Jordayne struggled to get up, but as the man saw his daughter sitting up with all her radiance, he shot up and securely wrapped his arms around her.

"You had me worried 'mara" he whispered in her hair, letting out a sigh of relief.

"I'm alright father. It's just that, the weather fails to favour my health" Amara said, freeing herself from her father's warm embrace.

Berrin walked around the room contemplating on his daughter's well being, when he was suddenly struck with an idea.

"You shall return to the capital this instant! I am not taking any more chances, you should have stayed with the queen and prince Viserys in the first place" Berrin said pacing around the room with his hands folded behind him.

The girl sighed.

"Father, please. I am alright, I can assure you that" Amara said, as she slipped out of her covers and sat by the edge of the bed, her feet dangling in the air.

Berrin Jordayne stopped to look at his daughter who begged him with pleading eyes. He wanted her to be safe but at the same time, he didn't wish to bind her. So he gave in to her pleadings. Nothing could go past his her, she had her mother's determination.

"Alright" he said, throwing his hands in the air, in defeat, making Amara jump in joy.

"Oh thank you so much father!" She squeaked hugging him tightly. Berrin laughed at his daughter's innocence.

"I still don't understand why you wish to stay so badly" he said, running his fingers through her hair.

"I have made a friend father and I wish to make more. It is a rare opportunity and I am determined to seize it" she said proudly, the Dornishman laughed and ruffled his daughter's hair, playfully.

Amongst the frolic, Amara noticed a foreign broach on her father's chest. She looked closer to inspect it. Amara's eyes widened in shock as she realised the purpose of the fancy broach.

It was the symbol of the Hand, but the Hand had been Tywin Lannister, why in the world was her father wearing it?

Berrin was quick to understand the sudden shock his daughter had felt, but he knew that they didn't have time for these explanations. The feast was about to begin in a few hours and he had to be there as soon as he could.

The castle, the lavish bed and a personal office started to make sense to the young girl, as she soon came to terms with the fact that her father was now the Hand Of The King.

Yet again Amara was flooded with questions, the questions her father's eyes refused to answer as he ushered her to her own chambers, farther down the hall.

"Why father?" She asked before leaving.

"All in good time, my 'mara. All in good time"

Berrin assured her, while shutting the doors to her room.

 **ooo**

Amara had been fed and dressed for the feast by the maids of the castle, who giggled along while they decorated her hair with fresh flowers and fixed her dress. The young maids thought the situation to be endearing, but for Amara it was torture. The girl preferred her knee length tunics and flowy khakis, but it was an official function and she was meant to look like a lady, not an urchin.

The feast started out slow, with Lord Walter Whent, who was the host of the great event, giving a long and a rather dull speech about unity and pride which made half off the lords doze off, including her poor father who had to bear such mundane northern celebrations.

Amara had often heard him narrate the lavishness of Dornish celebration, so the girl could understand that he felt completely out of place.

She'd initially tagged along with Rhaenys and Elia, but her princess was heavy with a child, hence the woman failed to move around as much as she desired. So, Amara just sat around sipping on ginger ale and waiting for the damned celebration to be over. Marcel too, being extremely uninterested in all the formalities, took a seat beside his sister holding a goblet of wine, in similar fashion.

The boy leaned in to his sister's ear, "They say Tywin Lannister stormed off Harrenhal, after his son was announced to join the Kingsguard" Marcel snickered, while sounded like a middle aged woman interested in malicious practice of random tittle tattle.

Amara's brows furrowed as she turned to face her brother. "As much as I hate ser Jaime, I will not deny that this is aweful" Marcel scoffed.

"He deserves it, that gold shitting twat" The Jordayne boy swallowed all his wine at one go and quickly refilled it.

Amara couldn't help but feel sorry for her brother, he had always great responsibility on his shoulders. He was the oldest Jordayne and the heir to their family seat at Tor, which was being managed by their uncle Trebor.

"Calm down Marcel, he's just another noble boy. Don't let him get to you, he relishes our attention" Amara suggested. Marcel hummed in response, proving that he had turned a deaf ear to her words of consolation. The girl followed his gaze to find it lingering on Jaime Lannister, who was climbing the pedicle to receive his white cloak.

"Fucking bastard. I'll show him how to be a true knight" he cursed under his breath, finishing his second round of wine.

Marcel's blood boiled at the fact that Jaime was hardly an year older than him, and yet he was so prosperous. The boy was fueled with envy, so without another word he left the room, unable to handle the attention that the Lannister was recieving.

Everyone in the room cheered for Jaime except Amara.

How she detested him, not only for how he insulted her brother, but for how he was the product of their society, wrapped in perfection and pride. Unrealistic and pretentious.

Amara, like her brother went to leave the celebration but was stopped by a hand on her head.

It was Prince Rhaegar.

Amara smiled weakly at him and Rhaegar understood the girl's discomfort. She had never been to places like this and like her father and brother, she failed to fit in. He came up with an ideas as he leaned down to her and said-

"You promised me a song"

Amara chuckled, while her price smirked. The girl noticed the harp that was kept in the center of the hall. She had forgotten about the song that she had promised the prince long ago. She'd promised to sing along the next time he played the harp.

And her was playing the harp that night.

Scared, would have been an understatement. Amara was terrified to speak more than two syllables infront of such a restless crowd, let alone sing.

"Alright, my prince. Just one song it is then" Amara sighed as she took Rhaegar's hand and the walked to the center stage.

The Targaryen prince took his seat by the harp as Amara stood in front of it. Rhaegar had been a support, ever since her mother had died. He'd always kept her close, especially when his father was busy with different tasks. Singing with him was the least she could do, to convey her sheer gratitude.

Rhaegar plucked at the strings of the majestic instrument and soon the cacophony of the crowd eased down, as they swayed with the music that filled the air. It was almost hypnotic as Amara stared at the serene sight of men and women seated placidly around them.

She took a deep breath and remembered her mother's beautiful face as she sung the same song to her. Amara wasn't a good singer but her mother had been, she sang the tunes while she braided her little daughter's hair. It was all a distant memory to the girl.

Amara mustered all her courage, took a deep breath and began-

 _"Come all you fair and tender girls._

 _That flourish in your prime._ _Beware, beware keep your garden fair._

 _Let no man steal your thyme;_

 _Let no man steal your thyme._ _For when your thyme is past and gone,_

 _He'll care no more for you,_ _And every place where your thyme was waste_

 _Will all spread o're with rue,_

 _Will all spread o're with rue"_

Amara had her eyes tightly shut, so that she would not see anyone while holding her tune, but little did the girl know that the song resonated deeply with a few individuals in the crowd.

It empowered Lyanna Stark. Amara's voice was shrill, yet soothing. It fueled the girl with the spirit of a wolf, who was desperately trying to break away from the social norms that were burdened upon her shoulders, but the fact that Jaime Lannister found himself frozen was quite astonishing.

He was not a person to be immersed in thoughts of the people lost in the past, it was always Tyrion who harboured such emotions, but the lion Lannister couldn't help himself that night, his walls were breaking apart. All this for a simple song? Jaime scoffed at himself. He was becoming soft. To Jaime it was a flood of memories. They were the memories of his late mother, his lovely governess and his dear aunt. It was that moment when the young lion felt his knees go weak.

Jaime sincerely believed that the evening was for his prosperity, but these memories of his childhood at Casterly Rock, washed away his infectious pride and, he realised that he was but a boy far away from home.

A lone lion, amongst dangerous men who strived for power and legacy, these things didn't interest him as much as they did with his father and sister. At heart, Jaime cherished simple things in life. It was a sad truth that no one cared believe because of his name.

Rhaegar Targaryen hummed with the girl, making the lords and the ladies in the crowd reach a state of enlightenment as beautiful music filled their ear.

 _"The gardener's son was standing by;_

 _Three flowers he gave to me_

 _The pink, the blue, and the violet, too,_

 _And the red, red rosy tree,_

 _The red, red, rosy tree._

 _But I forsook the red rose bush_

 _and gained the willow tree,_

 _So all the world might plainly see_

 _How my love slighted me,_

 _How my love slighted me_ "

When the song ended, Amara opened her eyes to see the crowd cheering, but the girl didn't want this. She wanted her mother, a tear fell from her eye and Amara quickly wiped it before anyone could see. She turned to the prince, who dismissed her with a knowing nod.

Hence without another word she ran out of the hall, despite her father's callings. Amara needed some air so she headed to the stables.

 **ooo**

Jaime sat around with the other Kingsguard through the evening as Lewyn Martell was trying to teach the boy the art of capturing a woman's attention, but they didn't know that Jaime Lannister desired only one woman who was far away from him.

"You are not chaste, are you?" Lewyn asked, making Oswald laugh.

Jaime blushed.

"Of course not" he quickly stated.

"Good. You wouldn't have lasted otherwise" Lewyn and Oswald laughed at the top of their voice, making Jaime shake his head in disbelief.

They soon stopped as the lord commander Gerold Hightower stood infornt of them, tight lipped. He turned to Jaime and smiled apologetically.

"Ser Jaime, may I speak with you?" he asked. The boy nodded in reply and followed his lord commander.

When the pair had reached a rather secluded area outside the hall, where cold winds blew, making the boy shiver. The moonlight shone on the older knight's face, reflecting his age, while Jaime waited quietly for him to speak.

"You will return to Kingslanding, at the crack of dawn. The king wants you there with the Queen and Prince Viserys"

Jaime's jaw hung loose. Why in the world was the king sending him to the capital? He had prepared for so long to attend the tourney and now everything was going to go to waste.

"I must stay Ser Gerold. I must stay for the tourney" Jaime pleaded. He was a young boy, he should be hunting and sparring, not looking after a grown woman and her son.

"Ser Jaime, you have sworn a sacred oath. You will do the King's bidding. If he wishes you in the capital then there shall you be" Jaime couldn't protest, Ser Gerold was right. He had bought it on himself, it was either his lifelong goal or just a petty tournament.

Hence, with a heavy heart, Jaime Lannister agreed to the proposition and made his way to the stables to check on his horse.

Jaime walked slowly with his head hanging down. He didn't wish to regret his decision to take up the white but these on coming tasks were making him do so.

When he finally reached the stables he heard snifflings of a girl, he followed the sound to find Amara Jordayne sitting on the haystack, her face buried in her knees that were pulled close to her chest. He cleared his throat catching her attention.

"I see that you're busy" he said slowly. Amara huffed in response, grabbing a handful of hay she threw it on the Lannisters boy, taking him by surprise.

"Hey!" He said, trying to dust away the hay stuck to his hair.

"Go away, Lannister. You are not wanted here" Amara said, turning away from him. Jaime scoffed at the childishness of the girl. She truely believed that the world worked according to her. How foolish could someone be?

"I am here for my horse, not for you" Jaime stated.

"Yet, here you are still standing, staring and judging me" Amara pointed out, making Jaime's cheeks heat up. He quickly walked to his horse and began putting on the straddle. He tried to concentrate on his own work but seeing the sad girl, made him feel the urge to console her.

It was strange for him. So very strange.

"You sang well today" Jaime told her with all seriousness, but instead of gratitude he recieved a snort from her.

"If you're done with these fake flatteries, then you may leave" Amara spat. Jaime took a deep breath.

"I am trying to be kind to you and you are testing my patience"

"Good. Least, you'll leave me alone if you lose your so called patience" Amara looked at Jaime, to realise that the man was not in his usual cocky demeanor. His eyes spoke of sincerity. She sighed, "My mother learnt this song as a child, when she visited the free cities. She said that that it was a famous hymn among the whore houses of Lys, it gave them strength to make it through the day" Amara said, laying down on the hay while she stared into the sky through the small opening in the roof.

"Is that why you sang it? To help them through the tourney" Jaime was curious, the girl was so strange, unlike anyone else he'd met, like an enigma. The young Lannister took a seat on one of the stools in the shead, hoping to continue their rather deep conversation.

"Perhaps I did, I sang it because it came to my mind at that instant. Like a rash decision"

"Oh I know about rash decisions. I know what they do" Jaime mumbled to himself, but loud enough for Amara to hear.

"Is that why your father left? Because you suddenly decided to join the Kingsguard" she suddenly asked. Amara instantly regretted her question. "You are not obligated to feed my curiosity. It was too foreward of me"

Jaime let out a laugh.

"Forward? Little lady, you insulted me at the arena today, where was your sense of 'forwardness' then?"

Amara groaned, "I cannot believe you're bringing this up again! I was defending my brother"

Before Jaime could counter the girl, a shadow arrived on the door, and to Amara's surprise it was her dear brother who was fuming.

"I don't need defending. I want your loyalty" He said walking into the stables with long steps, and his back straight. "How can you speak to this scum, when you clearly know how he humiliated me today?" He roared, making Amara sit up straight as she rolled her eyes.

Jaime was offended. He was just trying to be nice to the girl, and now her good for nothing brother had marched int to ruin everything, yet again.

"Don't be absurd Marcel, I can talk to anyone I please" Amara said, her anger slowly bubbling up.

"Anyone but him!" Marcel pointed at Jaime who was shocked at the nature of hatred the boy had for him. It was not a ordinary feud, he hated Jaime with all his heart.

"You need to stop talking to her like that. She is your sister for gods' sake Jordayne, knock some sense into that hollow head of yours" Jaime sated monotonously making Marcel turn to face him.

His eyes were red with anger, which almost scared Jaime, but the Lannister soon realised that the boy was actually drunk. He was not thinking rationally.

"Look-" before Jaime could finish calming down Marcel, he'd already punched the Lannister who fell down briefly. Jaime touched his nose to find himself bleeding. He was furious. He'd been call for too long, now he'd break Marcel's hand. Jaime pushed the Dornish boy on the ground, as he continued to punch him.

Amara on the other hand screamed for them to stop, she screamed and threw stones at the two, but all was in vain. She was already weak due to the cold and the two boys were stressing her even more.

"Stop! Please, just stop" she kept on saying until, like the last time, her vision became blurry. The girl tried to hold her self up, but kept on stumbling.

Jaime noticed her critical state. He pushed Marcel away and caught hold of Amara, who's eyes were rolling behind her head, but her grip was still strong. She was burning up with fever.

Jaime tried to carry her out but the girl wouldn't move. She looked pale as a ghost, almost dead. She shivered in his arms, as the boy cried for help for her brother was now passed out cold on the ground.

Amara's lips parted as she kept on calling out in gibberish.

 _She kept on calling out for some Jon Snow._

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE**

I don't own the song. I found it in the movie called Far From The Madding Crowd. Credits to the owners.


	5. CHAPTER THREE

**CHAPTER 3**

 _' BLOOD IS A SEAL OF OUR DEVOTION '_

Late _279 AL_

 _HARRENHAL/ CROWNLANDS_

 **HELP DID COME, BUT IN THE FORM OF A TARGARYEN PRINCE**. Rhaegar picked up the girl in his arms and while Jaime was fated to drag a passed out Marcel Jordayne. He threw the boy over his shoulders and followed the crown prince, for he was also to be taken the maester.

During their short walk, Rhaegar had quickly rushed away with Amara, but it was Marcel who's consciousness began to retrieve and it became difficult for Jaime to handle him.

"Where am I?" He stirred, only to be smacked on the face by Jaime who'd placed him on a chair inside the maester's quarters, while he looked at Amara. Marcel rubbed his cheek, groaning in pain.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BOUGHT ME, LANNISTER?" He screamed with a drunken drawl. This time Berrin Jordayne wacked him across his face and ordered him to shut his mouth.

Jaime sighed, this boy was truely a menace. He was stubborn and proud, the worst combination of character one could have.

While he waited with Marcel, the Lannister tried to peek and see what had truely happened to the girl. She had fainted in his arms, twice, that also in a single day. He saw the girl laying on the bed, almost lifeless. Her olive tone skin was pale. Jaime pitied her condition. It would be a shame if the girl he just met died unexpectedly. Not that he was emotionally invested in her well being, it would be a waste of a bright girl, since they were rare in their lands.

"Will she be alright?" Berrin Jordayne asked, with worried eyes.

"She will be fine. It is just fever, it will probably subside in a few hours, but I don't understand the cause of her fainting. Perhaps the child has a lot on her mind, you know how it's like these days" the maester said kindly making Rhaegar sigh in relief.

The prince was worried as well, with his hair greased with sweat and his heavy breaths, it was evident that the man cared for her deeply. Like she were his own daughter.

When the maester left, Jaime who was sitting by the door on his guard duty heard hushed whispers coming from the area where Amara slept. He knew it was Prince Rhaegar and the new Hand, but the nature of their conversation confused the boy.

"It makes no sense to keep her here, my Prince. If she'd have seen something she would've told you already, this is taking a toll on her health" Berrin stated firmly, Rhaegar nodded in an understanding manner.

"You are right this time, dear friend. Send her off to the capital tomorrow with Ser Jaime and let them take Marcel as well, he's been of great disturbance" Rhaegar said, sitting down by Amara's bed while placing his hand on her forehead to check her temperature.

"The Lannister?" Berrin spat, making Jaime cringe.

He knew what was to follow. The Hand didn't trust him, and Jaime would have to live it that, but then again he consoled himself by thinking that the Dornish always had issues with trust. He couldn't please everyone afterall.

"I will not let my children travel with that boy. He is young and he is reckless, just as Marcel is" Berrin added, making the Prince run his fingers through his silver hair.

"Suggest a better option then. The tourney begins tomorrow, nobody would be willing to leave. I'll arrange for a few soldiers to accompany them, I hope that'll satisfy you" he continued,

Berrin Jordayne was hesitant.

"Partially" he said, accepting the Prince's terms

"Take some rest, my father can call for you any moment and you don't want to disobey him. Remember Berrin, you're no Tywin Lannister. My father won't be intimidated by you, so don't let him get to you. He can be quite a pain sometimes" Rhaegar warned.

The Hand didn't protest, he knew Rhaegar would stay with her through the night, so he walked to the door, only to see Jaime Lannister leaning on the wall. He gave the young boy a nasty scowl and walked out of the room, closing the door roughly behind him. Jaime on the other hand just shrugged off the man's hatred and dozed off into a deep slumber.

It was hours before anything significant occurred, but this time it was Rhaegar who was a spectator of these incidents.

"NO!"

Rhaegar was woken up by the screams of the girl who lay infront of him, except the girl was now wide awake, as sweat dripped from her temples. She clutched onto her blanket, and her eyes were wide with fear. Amara looked like, she'd seen a ghost.

Rhaegar tried to place his hand on her shoulder, in order too soothe her but she flinched away from him. Her eyes bore into his violet ones as she opened her mouth to speak.

"Jon Snow. He is called Jon Snow" she said monotonously, almost like she didn't want to speak about it any further.

"Why do you speak of him so suddenly? Who is he, Amara?" The Prince asked, frantically.

"Your son"

Rhaegar gasped, almost falling off his chair. He was as confused as he was terrified. He couldn't believe her words, the girl had just revealed a crucial detail from his future.

It was unbelievable. It seemed almost unrealistic to the prince.

Why would he father a northerner's bastard?

"Are you certain, child?"

"Yes, my prince. I am certain. I hope you trust my abilities enough" Rhaegar chuckled.

"Of course I do. You are my little saviour, aren't you?" He asked, earning a small smile from the girl.

"Tell me more, 'mara" he asked again, with the same urgency in his tone.

"Forgive me but I don't know any more" the girl lied through her teeth.

 _She knew everything._

She knew more than her prince could ever imagine. She knew who the mother was, yet she had decided to keep it a secret.

Amara knew that Rhaegar would do something unacceptable and rogue, which would eventually lead up to his doom, she wanted to divert his future. So she kept her mouth shut.

 _For the sake her lovely princess Elia, for the sake of the young Lyanna Stark._

Rhaegar was overjoyed at the prophecies, he hugged the little girl. Amara gave him a small smile, trying to mirror his happiness, but it was hard. She was too young to carry the burden of such sacred knowledge. She was far too young.

Rhaegar had soon left the room, as he was busy preparing for her journey back home. Amara was heartbroken when the news of her departure was imparted to her by the prince, but at the same time the girl was glad she could leave this damned place and attain few moments of peace.

When she was alone, Amara noted that it was dawn, she also noted that Jaime Lannister was fast asleep by her door, as the first rays of light fell on his face and illuminated his golden locks.

He was snoring in his sleep. Amara giggled at the sight of the lion Lannister as she fell on her pillow. She closed her eyes to recieve her brief rest before she left for the capital.

 **ooo**

Marcel's eyes fell off of his sockets when he saw Jaime Lannister mounting his horse beside them.

Amara had done her best to keep a straight face that morning, trying not to wince at the bruises that Jaime had received from her brother, but Marcel wasn't making it any better. His constant comments on the Lannister began to anger her, especially since Jaime had clearly vowed to keep his mouth shut. Ensuring a peaceful journey.

"Why is he coming with us?" Marcel snarled, while putting on a coat on Amara's shoulder as the group waited for Berrin to arrive.

"Don't make a scene, you promised you wouldn't" she reminded her brother.

Jaime looked at Amara who was quietly listening to her brother speak, through the corner of his eye. She looked radiant yet weary, it was like a shadow loomed over her features. Her thick brother hand failed to detect her uneasiness, which made Jaime scoff. Marcel was irresponsible towards his own blood, this made Jaime's palms itch as he controlled his urge to sock him in the jaw.

When Berrin Jordayne arrived, everyone became silent. The man slowly went on to hug his daughter and give his son a look of caution.

"Stay out of trouble" he told the siblings and turned to the Knight and the other soldiers.

Amara witnessed the unsaid exchange that took place between Jaime and her father, which made the Lannister stiffen. She was clearly missing something out.

The company of soldiers and two civilians set out of Harrenhal when the sun shone brightly above their heads. The journey was supposed to be of four days and it was a long period of time. Especially if the group included two cut throat enemies like Jaime and Marcel.

Amara especially enjoyed the trip, due to the warm weather and the temporary peacefulness. Marcel still talked all kinds of rubbish, yet it was better than a hand to hand combat.

The first two days went quietly as the company travelled through the day and stopped at a inn at night, but tensions were still in the air. On the evening the third day, as they sat inside the inn, hell had broken loose. Marcel began his usual antics, ordering the men around as if he were their commander and Jaime was fed up with with his tantrums.

"We should take that way instead. It is short and safe" Marcel stated confidently, placing his jug of rum on the table with a loud thud. Jaime laughed at the stupidness of the boy.

"You're holding the map, upside down" he said and Amara tried to suppress her giggle. Marcel was flustered, as he quietened down, slowly slipping his rum. He turned to face the other Targaryen soldiers who were enjoying a game of card.

Jaime had quietened down since she'd last spoken with him, which was on the night of the opening feast. He barely spoke to anyone since that day. Amara was determined to know the reason for his sudden change of attitude, so she slowly made way to the chair diagonal to the Lannister Lion was drowned in his own thoughts.

She sat on the chair, awkwardly positioning her hand on the wooden table, waiting to catch his attention.

"I tell Marcel to stop drinking so much, yet he never listens" she commented out loud, making Jaime hum in response. He had not broken his facade so the girl tried her luck again.

"I wager that we'll reach the capital before dusk if we leave early, the weather is beautiful and there'll be no trouble along the way" Amara chirped. She tried to lighten up the aura around him, but it was of no use.

Jaime just looked her with a irritable expression on his face.

"What do you want?" He simply asked. Amara sighed.

"Why are you acting this way? What is your problem?" She asked, moving straight to the point. Jaime took a deep breath and positioned himself to face the young girl.

"You and your brother are my biggest problem at the moment. I can understand Marcel is an uncontrollable brat, but you. You are something else entirely!" He exclaimed in annoyance, making turning everyone's attention towards them.

"Do tell ser Jaime, what is it that bothers you about me?" She asked bravely, waiting for the worst insulted to be bestowed upon her by the Lannister. Amara was never the one to be offended by insults but she wasn't strong enough that day, especially after the things that she'd undergone in Harrenhal.

"Why is everyone so protective about you? Are you some form of royalty? I believe that they purposefully turn a blind eye towards your _actual_ status. You need to realise that you are no princess" Jaime paused, before continuing with a much harsher tone

"For gods' sake, Lady Amara. You don't even belong to a prosperous family. You are nothing but a lady of a lowly vessel house that rose in the society due to the good graces of our kind prince. Your supposed importance is beyond my comprehension. It nearly cost me my position in the Kingsguard!" When Jaime finished, it was Marcel's face he first saw, and how disappointed he looked.

Jaime swallowed hard as he realised that he may have struck a nerve and would now face the young girl's wrath, but when he turned, it was a completely different sight.

The girl he had expected to counter his insults was a sobbing mess.

"I hope you're satisfied now"

Amara's looked at the cruel knight one last time, before she covered her face and ran away from the room. She climbed the stairs and locked the door behind her.

Jaime didn't have the heart to run behind her to apologise. He stood transfixed at his position remembering how Berrin Jordayne had warned him about stay away from his daughter and son for the sake of his position in the Kingsguard.

 _He just wanted to push her away, but he'd pushed her too far._

Not along after she'd left, Marcel shoved the Lannister to the wall, as he grabbed his tunic, bring him closer. Jaime didn't protest, he felt numb after the outburst. He was willing to take up the worst of beatings, if it served as a punishment for his cruel behaviour.

"Look at me" he commanded the Lannister and Jaime quietly followed

"You know nothing about her. You have no idea what she has been through" Marcel continued "Have you ever touched fire, Lannister? I'm sure you haven't, but my sister survived a fire, the same fire that killed my mother. She was a little girl then, when we wept, she gave us hope. Be it me, my father or the prince. We protect her as she is the light of our darkness" He let go of Jaime, who fell on the floor.

"Some people will always need to be protected, but that doesn't mean they're not worth protecting" With that Marcel Jordayne left the Lannister, staring in the oblivion and repenting his mistake through the night

The next day arrived and the group, mounted their horse yet again. When Jaime joined them, he was welcomed by a apprehensive aura. Everyone whispered of the incident that took place the previous night, making him red with shame.

He couldn't even meet Amara's gaze, let alone apologize to her for his misconduct.

Whom was he fooling?

It was much more than just a simple issue of misconduct. He had tarnished her trust and their budding friendship.

"We take the short cut, so that we can reach the Crownlands quickly" Jaime commanded and with that the company set out on their final journey.

Amara was relieved that she'd finally reach home and then abstain from making any contact with Jaime Lannister. She just prayed for the journey to be over soon, so that she would no more have to look at his stupid face.

Amara tried to distract herself my studying the forest, which was the epitome of beauty. Amara drifted to deeper thoughts as she found herself lost in the memory. Marcel had been rather kind to her since yesterday, she appreciated his kindness but not his pity. As much as it hurt her, she had to admit that Jaime's words were true. She was a pampered girl. Not that it was wrong, but she didn't deserve it. She would always be a lady of a lower house.

Amara was snapped out of her thoughts as she heard a soldier fall off his horse with a great impact. She turned to see that the man had been shot with an arrow. Before the girl had a chance to warn her fellow travelers about the dangers, arrows began raining over their heads.

"SHIELD YOURSELVES!" Jaime screamed.

Marcel quickly grabbed his sister and pulled her behind a log. Amara sighed in relief as she saw most of the soldiers and Jaime had also found a cover. A loud cry was heard from the end of the forest which proved that they were ambushed by robbers.

Everything seemed alright and Amara reckoned that they would survive this deathly situation, but when she saw one of the soldiers stranded on the road, as he was being crushed under his dead horse, she couldn't take it anymore.

 _So she ran_. She ran into the open road where arrows flew from the sky like raindrops.

Marcel screamed for her to come back, but the girl payed him no attention. Amara did her best to dodge the on coming arrows. She believed that if she could survive the great fire then she could survive a shower of arrows as well.

The dornish girl had reached the wounded soldier but the man was heavy and she was unable to pull him out on her own.

Her eyes widened in shock as she saw another pair of hands, helping her with them task.

 _It was Jaime Lannister._

Everything had happened in such great rush that she'd failed to notice him run behind her to help the fallen soldier.

"Take him, now!" He pushed her away sensing the arrival of another hode of arrows.

Amara and the wounded soldier werw being pushed by Jaime to safety, and when they did reached her brother and the other survivors, Amara heard a loud grunt.

Her head snapped back to see Jaime Lannister falling onto the ground as an arrow embedded itself in his shoulders.

"Jaime" she whispered, in shock. Amara was unable to move when the Lannister fell on his back.

This time it was Marcel who pulled the wounded Lannister to safety, as the waited for the robbers to turn away.

The girl was terrified of blood, but not that day. When Marcel placed Jaime's wounded form, he was taking short breaths as an arrow stuck of his shoulders.

He finched away when Amara touched the foreign object, but she had to get it out. Taking a deep breath, the girl clasped her palm on Jaime's mouth despite his efforts to deny her help, and with all her might, she pulled out the arrow. Blood was splattered all over her dress, while her hand on the boy's mouth bled, as the boy bit into her palm in pain.

She knew it had to be done.

If the arrow stayed in him, he'd be terribly infected and may loose his arm. Which would be unfortunate for a knight.

She tore the sleeves of her dress, exposing her burnt shoulders and began putting pressure on his wound. The Lannister was sweating, as the blood flowed out his body and onto Amara's dress. His eyes were heavy lidded and he was drifting off to sleep due to blood loss.

"Stay with me, Ser Jaime. You can make it" she chanted over and over again, brushing his start golden hair off of his forehead.

"Amara" he croaked out, with all his might.

"Yes?" She asked, trying to stop the spillage of blood.

"I- I'm so sorry"

"No- not this way" she said, shaking her head in denial of the situation.

"Ple-Please forgive me" he said in a low voice. Tears formed in Amara's eyes as she desperately pressurised on his wound. She cooed sweet consolations, hoping to calm him down, but the boy was in great pain. He felt that he was about to die.

Jaime had always wished to die in the arms of the woman he loved, but it was nowhere near. He was dying in the arms of the girl who's blood he tasted in his mouth, the same girl who's spirit he'd tried to break, all for his selfish ambitions.

It was a moment of disappointment for Amara as well, for the she had not imagined the apology to be of this sort. This was not the right time, especially when she was stained with his blood and his mouth was with hers.

"Stay alive Jaime Lannister. It is all I ask of you" she whispered. Praying to the gods that the boy who lay infront of her would survive this terrible ordeal. She prayed for the robbers to turn away, for them to be safe.

 _Jaime Lannister had taken a arrow to his heart, trying to protect Amara. If he did die that day then the young girl would never forgive herself._


	6. CHAPTER FOUR

**CHAPTER 4**

 _' HE IS INSIGNIFICANT_ '

LATE _279 AL,_ _HARRENHAL_

 **ELIA MARTELL HAD LOT ON HER MIND THAT DAY.** She feared that her child might arrive weeks before the expected date and she blamed this on the tedious journey that she'd taken to Harrenhal. Much like Amara, the Dornish princess had her spirits low due to the constant chill that enveloped the air. So, during the last stage of the tourney, she sat between Lord Berrin Jordayne and Rhaenys, sighing in relief that she'd soon leave the place.

Elia had made up her mind that she'd take her two children to Dorne once her second born was a few moonturns old. How she missed the heat of the Dornish sun and the salty breeze of the narrow sea. She smiled to herself at the fond memories she had as a young girl, playing in the Water Gardens while Oberyn chased her around.

Those memories seemed to be the only saving grace she had left apart from her Rhaenys and Amara who often kept her hands full.

Elia's eyes soon found her husband in the crowd. Rhaegar stood in his armour of red rubies. He turned to Elia and gave her a tight lipped smile of assurance while she returned the gesture with an encouraging nod. She was partly disappointed because her husband had failed to meet her that morning, but she consoled herself by reminding her of the important tasks he probably had impending.

Rhaegar had lately been significantly distant and Elia couldn't comprehend the reason for his behaviour. After the incident with the Smiling Knight who's mysteries plagued the aura of the tourney, Rhaegar's expression had been unreadable. He was always immersed in his thoughts, it almost seemed like he was constantly calculating. Elia didn't wish to interfere in his affairs, he was a grown man after all, but even though they failed to communicate like they used to, she always understood what her husband felt.

 _She was quiet but extremely observant._

She next looked at Berrin on her side, who had excused himself from the king's side for that day, his face was etched with the same distress he had since the day he bid his daughter farewell.

No raven had arrived making Elia fear for the worst. Lord Jordayne couldn't handle another loss, especially not after the terrible misfortune suffered by Felicia.

"You look weary, Lord Jordayne. Tell me, is everything alright?" She asked, her eyebrows twisted in concern.

"Ah-yes yes, my Princess. Everything is alright" the Hand said urgently "Don't worry about me, you have better things to look into"

"Nonsense, Lord Berrin. I am equally worried about Marcel and Amara as you are. They are like my children, if they are in danger then it is natural for me to be worried" she stated making Berrin sigh.

"What is wrong?" She asked again. Elia knew the reason of Berrin's detoriated mood but she wished to hear it from his mouth.

"No raven has arrived. Not a single one. They were supposed to reach five days ago. I can expect a delay of two days but six? It is extremely upsetting to even imagine the various possible situations they can be in" He said, as his nails dug into his palm.

"Oh my. Have you told Rhaegar?" She asked thinking that perhaps her husband could send out a search party for the troupe. Elia saw that the two competitors taking their position.

"No, he has had his hands full, from the past couple of days. Especially since his father told him to take care of that rogue knight situation"

"The infamous Smiling Knight, you mean?"

"Yes. That one" Berrin said nonchalantly. His mind was preoccupied with the worst possible scenarios.

There was so much pain around the people she cared for, it gravely saddened the Princess of Dorne. Her brothers had told her that she cared about others more than she did for herself and at the end it made her feel worse.

She placed a hand on her ever growing stomach and took a deep breath as Rhaegar climbed his horse and wore the helmet. With a roar of the king's voice, began the final tourney as Ser Barristan Selmy rode from one side while Rhaegar from another.

The two lances hit with a loud noise, startling Elia in her position. Barristan Selmy had clearly asserted his dominance in the sport as he charged again. Rhaegar on the other hand tried to keep up with the skilled knight.

Ashara who sat in the opposite gallery, jumped about her seat, cheering loudly for the Kingsguard, much to young Ned Stark's annoyance.

Elia laughed at that sight which also earned a giggle from the morose Berrin Jordayne.

The jousting tournament tensed as they nearned the end. Elia saw strength ebbing away from both the prince and the knight. The princess prayed for them to cease from injuring each other for desperate times such as this could lead to sudden and random decisions.

Just when Elia accepted that both men were going to fall off their horses, Rhaegar plunged his lance foreward, throwing Ser Barristan out in surprise. The prince had used his last strength to unhorse the Kingsguard. Elia was shocked at the unexpected victory achieved by her husband. She smiled to herself as the cheers for the beloved crown prince filled the air.

Rhaenys jumped in air as she called out for her father.

 _He was so loved._

The people congratulated Elia on her husband's victory as the woman's chest soared in pride.

Rhaegar gingerly took off his helmet, a small smile on his face. Elia giggled to herself, it'd be her last day in the world of she ever saw him laugh like his life depended on it.

She saw him ride to the King's gallery. Lord Walter Whent passed him a crown of blue roses, a rare kind of flower only found in the northern most region of the land. Far away from Winterfell.

Elia saw Rhaegar take the delicate crown. It was the time for him to name a woman the queen of love and beauty.

Rhaegar studied the crown for a brief moment before he rode towards Elia. The princess felt her heart stop as she saw her husband approaching. She smiled as much as her jaws permitted.

 _She was so proud of him. She was so happy for him._

And much like a northern breeze Rhaegar Targaryen rode across his wedded wife. The woman he'd vowed to cherish all his life.

The whole crowd gasped in shock, but no one was as shocked and heartbroken as the Princess of Dorne while she sat clutching onto her stomach as all colour drained from her face.

"What in the seven hells is he doing?" Berrin fumed.

"Elia?" He nudged his princess, but the woman was dazed.

"Mother, why did father ride past her?" Rhaenys asked as her voice became heavy with sadness, but Elia didn't budge.

Their beloved crown prince had rode to the Stark galleries and placed the honourable title on the pale northern girl's lap.

Lyanna Stark felt herself falling deeper into a burrow of embarrassment while her betrothed look at her dumbfounded. She murmured a small gratitude, making Rhaegar nod, signalling her to him as soon as she could and then he turn and leave the arena altogether.

Not once did he glance at his wife or daughter.

 _It was like they didn't exist._

Elia Martell was in a completely different state. With Rhaenys screaming with her burning questions and Berrin Jordayne cursing his friend under his breath, she was stressed.

A tear threatened to fall from her eyes but the Princess wouldn't cry. Not infornt of the whole kingdom. She was royalty and she had to hold herself together. There would have been a bigger reason for Rhaegar to crown Lyanna Stark with such honour.

Elia consoled herself again and again. For a moment she wished that it was a terrible nightmare, but it was not. It was the sad reality of her existence. She would have to live with the fact that her husband didn't seem her worthy of the crown.

 _But it was just a mere crown of flowers wasn't it?_

It didn't mean much. There would be gossips, yes for it was a scandalous affair but they would subside eventually.

Rhaegar was known to make correct judgements maybe that is why he crowned Lyanna. In his judgement she was a all rounded lady with a spirit of a wolf.

Elia told herself that these things didn't matter. She was a young girl of fifteen who meant no harm.

 _She was the one married to the Prince. Not her._

 **ooo**

 _5 DAYS AGO_

 _CROWNLANDS_ ,

 _OUTSKIRTS OF KINGSLANDING_

"How far are we?" Asked Amara as Marcel whipped the horse with all his strength. To the passersby it looked like a dangerous situation for there were three people on the poor horse.

Jaime Lannister was stuffed in between the two Jordayne siblings with Amara Jordayne holding on to her dear life as she often threatened to tumble down.

"Faster boy!" Marcel said, the horse neighed and ran faster. Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead. The boy had left the soldiers to deal with the robbers as Jaime's condition detoriated.

He was worried how the young men fared, whether they were dead or alive. They had to reach the capital by sundown or the Lannister would be dead of blood loss.

Amara failed to check Jaime's pulse due to the uneven roads that made the journey quite rocky. He could be dead for all she knew but the girl didn't give up. She constantly straightened the passed out knight, to avoid him falling off the horse.

"I can see the Red Keep" Marcel said and Amara breathed out in relief.

"Good, we must be quick. He's still bleeding"

With that Marcel Jordayne once again whipped his horse foreward and this time they didn't slow down until they'd rushed through the gates of the capital while the city watch screamed curses at them.

The boy was quick to reach the castle where he got off his horse and pulled down the heavy armoured body of the lion Lannister. He called out for the servants who bounded the horse and helped to carry a wounded Jaime to Grand Maester Pycelle.

Amara followed closely behind them with quick steps, her dress was a torn mess with Jaime's blood all over it. Her dark hair had twigs sticking out while she stunk of the perspiration. The maids gave her a strange look, but the girl payed it no mind. She had to see whether Jaime would live or not.

When Amara reached the room, she took a seat near the window. Watching Jaime and the maester from a distance. Grand Maester Pycelle was startled by the boy's wounds. He quickly placed him on the bed and began examining his pulse.

"Gods" He sighed, making Amara's ears perk up.

"He is alive but that wound is infected. I must stitch it before it gets worse" Pycelle moved around his chambers scurrying for his equipments.

He sat down by the boy's bed, once he had gathered his things and began stitching him. It was a disturbing scene to watch, Marcel was nauseous as his breakfast threatened to spill out of his mouth. Amara had a different reaction entirely.

She sat with her eyes wide open and her bloodied hand clasped on her lap.

"How did the he end up with these wounds?" Pycelle asked, making Marcel gulp hard. He looked at Amara who signalled him to reveal their terrible ordeal.

"We were attacked by Robbers"

"And you survived?" He raised his brow.

"Yes" Amara piped up, "The soldiers that travelled with us, fought and distracted them while we ran on the horse"

"Three of you on a horse!" Pycelle exclaimed, his needle almost falling into the boy's gash. Marcel laughed nervously, fiddling with his hands.

"It was a sturdy horse, maester!" Amara defended, occasionally glancing at Jaime.

"Sturdy or not, it was dangerous. Wait till your father arrives, I make sure he knows of your antics" The old maester grumbled, making Marcel sink into his chair. The boy knew he was doomed. He wanted his father to be proud of him, instead he was on the path of offending him.

"I am sure you'd do the same if you had a couple dozen of savages on your arse" Amara said irritably, flipping her hair and making Marcel's jaw drop in awe.

Grand Maester Pycelle paused, inferring the girl's words.

"Is that the way a lady should speak?" He warned.

"Is that the way a maester should threaten?" She countered. Marcel waved his hand in the air trying to tell his sister to stop. Amara sighed,

"I apologise for my I'll manners, maester Pycelle. I am just terribly worried about Ser Jaime's well-being" she said in a low voice, looking down to her lap.

Pycelle cleared his throat, he stood up and went to bring a cloth with which he wiped his wrinkled hands.

"The wound is poisoned, Ser Jaime suffers from a great fever. I'd be a _miracle_ if he wakes" he said coldy as his hard eyes landed on Amara.

The Maester soon left the room.

The girl froze and so did her brother, but it was Amara who felt dizzy as she saw Jaime lying almost limbless on the straw bed.

A tear ran down her face, confusing Marcel. Why was her sister shedding tears for the same boy who insulted her only two days ago. She truly was her mother's daughter and Elia's prodigy. No wonder his father and the prince loved her so deeply. She was warm, like the spring and wise beyond her years.

"Miracle" Amara continued, "Where am I to find a miracle, Marcel?" She turned to him, her eyes full of lament.

"Amara" The boy stood up and sat down on his knees infront of his sister. "Jaime doesn't look well. You must know that if something happens, it won't be your fault" he said, cupping her face while wiping s stray tear from her cheek.

Amara burst out into fits of cries as Marcel pulled her in an embrace. It was rare for him to show such affections to her, they were never really close but that day the girl was in deep sorrow. Never in a thousand years she'd thought that a young boy would loose his life for her sake.

 _Just like her mother had._

Amara believed that if Jaime Lannister died, she'd have his blood on her hands, much like she had her mother's.

"Mother used to say, if one prayed to The Father, then he returned the souls that the Stranger stole" she whispered, making Marcel pull away from their hug.

"The Gods aren't kind, Amara. If Jaime Lannister is to die today then he will, your prayers won't make a difference" Amara shook her head furiously.

She didn't want to accept his death.

"No! Jaime will live!" With that the girl pushed her brother away and ran out of the Maester's chambers bare foot and with her bloodied-torn clothes.

Marcel didn't even try to call her back. He knew his sister, she was determined. There was no way of stopping her, the only thing he could do was wait for he knew exactly where she headed.

 _She headed to the great Sept of Baelor._

Amara was not particularly religious, but she believed in the gods. Something she had inherited from her mother. So when the girl arrived at the Sept, few eyes did turn to take a look at the girl with blood on her dress.

For Amara these things meant nothing, she walked to the halls of the great Sept to find the collosal statue of the father as he looked kindly down at his children. His creation.

Amara fell on her knees, clasping her hands together while her lips moved in a silent prayer.

It was strange how religion played it's part to provide moral support when no one would. The Dornish girl felt her heart become lighter as she prayed. She prayed for forgiveness as she'd lied to her prince and she prayed for Jaime's recovery.

Amara didn't want any more untimely deaths in her lifetime. Her mother's had scarred her already, both metaphorically and literally. Her burnt back was a constant reminder that she was the one who caused her mother's death and the girl believed that the dried blood in her nails would serve as a reminder for Jaime's end.

The boy she barely knew, yet she felt a strong aura of friendship with him. Atleast when they had their brief exchange at the shed in Harrenhal.

"Please, don't take him away. He has done nothing wrong, he shouldn't have to die for me" she cried.

Hours did pass like a blink of an eye and Amara found herself at the steps outside the Sept late at night, with her knees folded to her chest and her face positioned between them. She feared returning home, she feared that if she rode back then she'd hear the unfortunate news and the girl didn't have the heart to take it.

When the phase of denial had left her bones, Amara felt numb. Her eyes were sunken due to excessive stress and her hair was a tangled mess. She was so engrossed in the thoughts of guilt that she failed to notice the tall, slender figure that stood in front of her.

"What is a girl like you doing here at this time of the night?" the woman asked with a sleepish drawl. Amara looked up to see a woman covered in crimson cloth from head to toe. Her face was expressionless and her eyes were cold. She looked like she was in her middle ages, but she held a vibrance of a young woman which seemed almost unnatural. There was something so unsettling about her, shivers ran down the young girl's spine merely at the sight of the strange woman.

"Just sitting" she said.

"Your clothes may be covered in blood yet you look like a girl of a noble house. Tell me, are you from the castle?" She asked, eyeing Amara's form.

"Yes"

"Then you must have a name"

"Amara Jordayne"

The woman's eyes gleamed in the moonlight at the mention of the name. A smirk formed on her face.

"Do you wish to return to the castle girl? I can take you there. It is a long walk that you don't wish to undertake all alone" She said, offering her hand. Amara blinked at the woman who's eyes gave away no emotions, why did she want to take the girl to the castle and what business could she possibly have there?

"I am afraid I must decline, my horse-"

Amara pointed at the supposed location of her horse, only to see that it was now empty. Someone had stolen it. She mentally cursed herself for being so careless.

A thousand questions and thoughts ran through Amara's mind once she took hold of the strange woman's hand and they made way to the castle.

"What business do you have in the Red Keep?" She asked, unable to control the brimming curiosity that she'd pushed down.

"I am a wet nurse. I am here for the Princess's labour, I came to assist her on a special invitation" She said with a small smile. Amara looked up to the woman, trying to read her face which was partially covered by her hood.

"You are not from these lands" Amara deduced.

"You have sharp ears, do you know where I am from?" She asked playfully, twisting the girl's mind as they walked through the tarven streets of Flea Bottom.

Men ran around drunk, while moans of whores filled the air as the screeched in pleasure. The strange woman had her hands securely around Amara's shoulder, draping her body with her cloak that shielded her from unwanted attention.

"I am not sure" she said after a lot of thought and recollection of her father's lessons. "Not from Lorath, I suppose. Eventhough to a casual listener you'd sound like a woman from the free cities, but I think you're from far east. Far East of Essos, across Astapor somewhere eastern to the Valyrian freehold" she mulled.

"Close enough" the woman shrugged.

Amara mind was preoccupied by Jaime Lannister, but this strange woman had piqued her interest as well. She was not who she declared she was. A wet nurse with crimson clothes and a strange drawl.

"You are from Asshai, aren't you? A red priestess from Asshai" The woman's mouth curved into a smile, as she looked down at the girl for the first time in their whole journey.

"You know about us"

"Yes, spent an afternoon or two reading about your lord of light" Amara said monotonously, their journey was becoming far too long and the girl was burning with anxiety for the Lannister knight.

"Why would you be called as a wet nurse in the first place?"

"An inspection, I ought to undertake for your dear prince" The priestess commented.

"Prince Rhaegar called you?" Amara asked, confused.

"Yes"

Amara gulped hard as she picked up her pace, she'd begun finding the woman very strange but the strange woman followed behind her, much to her dismay. Just like a shadow.

"Our Lord of light stands for the truth, unlike your false gods"

Amara stopped and turned to face the priestess.

"A boy I know is dying. Can your god save his life?" She snapped.

"He can, if he deems his life to be worthy, but for you Amara Jordayne it is quite an impossible task. If this boy stands as an obstacle to your fate then the the lord of light will snatch away his life, willingly" Amara gasped, she shook her head trying not to believe the woman's gibberish.

She was scaring the young Dornish girl, and without another thought Amara ran. She ran away from the Red Priestess who called out for her.

"Remember this child, your light matters more in this world than the lives of these insignificant men, for the night is dark and full of terrors, Amara. _The long night awaits!_ " She called out, making the drunken men on the street laugh at the fearful girl.

She didn't look back and ran with all her strength. Her feet were gashed as she ran barefoot on the stony floors of the dilapidated slum, but fortunately, Amara was quick to reach the gates of the Red Keep only to find her brother, sitting with his face buried in his hands.

"Marcel" she breathed out.

The boy looked up and smiled at her, his eyes glowed with the young rays of the sunlight. Amara's jaw dropped in shock.

His eyes gave away one thing and one thing only-

Jaime Lannister was awake. The boy had survived the night.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Please leave a **review** , letting me know what you think of this. Your feedback means a lot. Thank you x - Sana


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